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words, there are words.this street is covered in words,paved with them,if I could only see. peel backwet paper to find what is writtenunderneath.

or thoughts, swirling unforgettabletoo often lost and broken.gather them to melike reams of cottonbringing soft billowingbringing true sorrow.

and the many people,so frail, wandering down thisfickle street.walking step by step together.red lipstick, small laughingmouths, large hats.thin legs encased in baggy pants.frailty. people so easily broken.like small branches, really, lookingand laughing, eyes and hairtossed like scattered leaves.

gather them to me like flowerscatch the elusive piecesto pin them back togetherwishing that they would be whole.